Lady Dagworth-Granger
by Janus Thickey
Summary: Being thrust headfirst into the wizarding aristocracy is hard enough, but doing it when you're busy keeping your best friend from dying in a tournament, taking literal princess lessons, and fending off the advances of those more interested in your power than your mind? It is a good thing Hermione Granger isn't a quitter. (Camp NaNoWriMo 2019 story, unedited)


AN: So this is my Camp NaNoWriMo story! Completely unedited until I get through with writing it, so please read at your own risk, let me know your thoughts!

XOXOXOX

She was going to kill Harry Potter.

Not really, of course, but how rude could he be?

Standing up the plans to they had made to prepare for the second task to chase after Cho Chang like an excited puppy. Unreal!

Muttering expletives under her breath as she packed up her table in the back corner of the library, Hermione Granger sparked with annoyance, little arcs of her agitated magic electrifying her hair to be even bushier than usual and occasionally arcing to nearby objects.

"Can't be bothered to socialize with his _best friend_, no, of course not", she continued to grumble, "He thinks S.P.E.W. is stupid as well, what a supportive friend he is".

A sharp "Problem, Granger?" finally drew the brunette's attention away from her anger and to the sharp, pointed face of none other than Draco Malfoy.

Of course.

She immediately looked down at the table she was violently clearing and attempted to ignore the second rude git trying to ruin her day, continuing to shove books and papers into her satchel.

The snide boy spoke up again, "Granger!", he leant forward and knocked on the table, "I am not here for fun, you know."

Out of books to pretend to attend to, Hermione looked up at the blonde with a dark glare, "What in Merlin's name are you here for then? Trying to annoy me to death?"

"Circe, Dumbledore sent me to summon you, go be angry at him!" Malfoy said, looking surprised at the level of anger in her tone. "Password is 'Pepper Imps'."

Cheeks flushing, Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder, smoothing down her robes. Maybe she had been a bit harsh. Then again, this was Draco Malfoy, git in chief. Still, she couldn't ignore his genuine surprise. "People tend not to be nice to you when you make it a point to harass them, Malfoy", she informed him in a snide tone as she made to walk by.

He took a step back as she marched past, eyebrows raised.

Hermione put her head down and started quickly for the Headmaster's office. It was a decent walk, and she had certainly wasted time sniping with Malfoy. Maybe this was about being a prefect next year? Or maybe her grades had slipped! With every step she took she grew more concerned, her already agitated energies building to a fever pitch as she approached the stairs to Dumbledore's study.

As she went to step on the first step of the staircase, the formerly still gargoyle to the right of the entrance sprang into motion, blocking her way, and she ran into it with an audible "Oomph".

"Password?" the gnarled figure asked, in a raspy, dare she say, stone-like voice.

Blinking away her surprise and thoughts, "Pepper Imps", she replied.

The statue stared intensely at her for a moment and then stepped out of the way. "Headmaster has been expecting you."

She nodded quickly at him, scurrying through the cleared entrance and startling again when the stairs themselves started to move. Fascinating! It was like an escalator! While she was distracted by the magic doing something so muggle, the stairs came to an abrupt stop as she reached the door to the Headmaster's office. What if this had to do with Harry? Or S.P.E.W.? Her mind whirring, Hermione reached out to the golden griffin knocker and banged quickly twice. No sense in dallying. If it was bad news better to know sooner, she supposed.

Right as her anxiety began to build again, the brunette heard Dumbledore's voice, "Come in, child."

Bristling slightly at being called a child, Hermione pushed the door open and stepped inside, only to be greeted by possibly the last group of people she had ever expected to see. The glinting and whirring machines placed randomly on tables and flat surfaces, the shining fabric mounted on the walls, the portraits on the walls - all paled to the fact that on the blue velvet couch tucked against one of those plush walls was her grandmother, chatting with none other than Narcissa Malfoy.

Hermione only knew her maternal grandmother from photos, having never been able to pry any information from her mother aside from "We are estranged, she will not bother you", but that woman was certainly her - from the color of her eyes to the (admittedly perfectly coiffed) shape of her curls, cascading in a waterfall of silver over her shoulder.

As she began to recover from the shock, the young witch began to process more information, opening her mouth and beginning to ask questions, "Grandmother? What are you doing here? What is _she_ doing here? Are you wearing robes? Wait! Are y-"

She was cut off by the headmaster, who called her name softly, "Miss Granger, lemon drop?" As he handed her the sweet, he gently began to press her towards a set of chairs facing the sofa with a firm hand on her shoulder.

Popping the candy into her mouth, Hermione felt the immediate effects of a mild calming draught. She would be angry about being dosed later, she supposed, but suddenly couldn't muster the energy now. She allowed herself to be pushed gently into one of the very comfortable chairs across from the mother of her bully and her own grandmother, both looking at her with an appraising sort of interest.

Dumbledore took the seat to her right, completing the small circle.

"To answer your questions, Miss Granger, your grandmother and Lady Malfoy are here on official business pertaining to you.", the headmaster turned to face the couch, "Lady Dagworth-Granger, Lady Malfoy, I present to you Miss Hermione Granger."

The girl in question watched what was obviously a ceremony and scoured her brain and the books stored within for the correct response. Before she could stutter her way through an answer, Draco's mother spoke up.

"Pleased to make your formal acquaintance, Miss Granger", she said with a seemingly genuine smile and tilt of her head, "I do apologize if our previous meetings have been in less ideal circumstances".

Hermione felt abruptly like her brain was turning too fast to make sense of any of the information being thrown at it. Dagworth-Granger? That was a wizarding name! Mrs. Malfoy was being polite, even kind. Dumbledore kept looking at her grandmother with a sort of deference that made her uncomfortable - he was _the_ Albus Dumbledore, after all. While lost in thought she felt herself responding appropriately. This is what Alice felt like, she pondered, falling down the rabbit hole.

"I … Uh …" after a moment of stuttered surprise, the girl responded "Pleasure to meet you, Lady Malfoy?" Unable to keep the questioning lilt from the end of her sentence.

The headmaster smiled sagely at her. She was angry with him, she remembered, distant as the feeling was. The calming draught was already wearing off, a soft tingle in her toes acting as a warning of the potion's departure from her system.

A quiet cough drew her from her most recent spiral of distraction, placing her attention firmly on her grandmother. More questions filled her mind every second she spent in this office.

"I can practically hear you thinking, dear", the older woman said, "I know you have many questions but I am here for a reason - as is Lady Malfoy".

With a quick glance at her granddaughter's raised eyebrows she continued, "As I am sure you have figured out, I am no muggle. Your mother was a witch as well, but she permanently gave up her magic when she separated herself from our family." Her lips quirked down into a displeased frown, "What do you know about the wizarding aristocracy?"

Honestly startled by the switch from informative to questioning, Hermione took a moment to think, "Well. Not much. I haven't found any real mention of lords or ladies outside of old historical texts. And of course the series by Patricia Bolton about ancient magical rites, although-"

"I am surprised, I will admit." Her grandmother said, cutting her off, "but no matter. The aristocracy is alive and well. It doesn't rule over governments directly, but rather serves as an overarching influence over all of Europe."

She took a few sips of her tea, letting that information sink in before continuing, "I am the Queen."

The constant loop of questions running through Hermione's mind, being stashed in her mental ledger of 'things to look up later' came to an abrupt halt. "You're the Queen?"

With a bit of a smirk, her grandmother replied, "Yes, and I've grown quite tired of politicking alone. You're to take my place when you are ready."

The china teacup in her hands slipped to the ground, bouncing on the plush rug, as Hermione stood up, mind back in full gear. "I- I- I need to leave." And she turned, slinging her schoolbag over her shoulder, and fled down the stairs.

The last thing she heard was a sigh from Professor Dumbledore, "Well, that could have gone better."


End file.
